


The Raccoon City Chronicles

by possumon



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: (lots of teasing forgive me), Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Shameless Smut, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:40:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possumon/pseuds/possumon
Summary: A collection of smut prompts that I have received on Tumblr for the two main hotties of the RE3make, Carlos & Jill. I'll update with more chapters (and tags) as soon as I finish the requests in my inbox! Enjoy! (Note: some of these have been edited for AO3 with either a few more words/sentences/descriptions than what was published on my Tumblr)Carlos/Reader: Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.5, Ch.6Jill/Reader: Ch.4,
Relationships: Carlos Oliveira/Reader, Jill Valentine/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 178





	1. Carlos/Reader - Smut Prompt #14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a CERTAIN SOMEONE asked: 14, CarlosxReader 😙
> 
> 14: “Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.”

Carlos can count on one hand the many times where he’s been put through the wringer. Through fourteen liters of sweat shed per day over a nine-week period of special forces combat training that often left his legs painfully drowsy, to shooting at defective pharmaceutical experiments that _might_ have been intended to actually help people at some point until they started to develop legs and claws and a hunger for human meat. Even witnessing his entire faction of rebels and comrades get wiped off the map by government forces was a heavy cross to bear. He could never get the image of dusky trees and bloodstained sand out of his mind. This -what was happening to him right now- was in no way as emotionally or physically taxing as every prior experience that traveled with him. But it was ardently tugging at the threads of his restraint, climbing up the ladder of trials and tribulations with the purpose of finding its own spot.

Under the deft plucking of your fingers and twisting wrists, his resilient fibers were beginning to fray.

“ _Jesus_. Throw a guy a bone here.” He huffed, his eyes never leaving the spot where he continued to watch you stroke his cock at an unbearably slow pace.

You tutted at him, focusing your touch on his swollen tip instead. He hissed through his teeth when you rubbed even more of his pre-cum across his sensitive skin.

“You’ve only got -what?” You checked the watch on your wrist. “Six minutes before you have to get back to your rounds? Now you wanna start getting mouthy?”

He didn’t like that he enjoyed the smug look on your face as much as he did. His tone expressed that inner turmoil. “Only ‘cause you’ve just been sittin’ here toyin’ with me for the better half of an hour break instead of giving us both what we really want.”

Carlos bucked his hips impatiently to prove his point while you had completely stopped moving your hands, fixing him with a look.

“It’s not like you’re tied up or anything, are you?” He swallowed hard when you scooted closer to him on his lap, your chests touching and your arms now draping over his shoulders. The deliberate movement caused your tight pencil skirt to rise a little higher, teasing him with the sight of your bare thighs. He could feel the heat coming off of you in searing waves. He was about to go mad.

“If you _really_ wanted me to do something, you either could’ve asked nicely _or_ you could’ve taken matters into your own _free_ hands. I might’ve gotten a little upset by your insubordination since you _did_ promise me that you were gonna behave, but I wouldn’t hold it against you.” The way you spoke to him made his blood churn in a way that had him desperately rutting his cock between your plump, naked flesh.

You just tilted your head and smiled like you always did for him. “It’s like you said, there _is_ something we both really want.”

The glimmer in your eyes holds a more challenging hue that he finds himself getting swept up in. His fists clench and unclench atop your legs, expelling tension and doubt. Finally, with a long and arduous inhale, he dispels a more resolute breath across your neck, holding your gaze.

“Please…” He whispers.

You hum, wishing you could make him say what he _really_ wants to say, but you’re both running out of time. You reach between the two of you and find his cock again. It throbs in your hand and your heartbeat quickens to match him.

“Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop.” Your voice is a devilish purr, a gluttonous grin spread across your face.

The speed at which he grabs the back of your neck to pull you in for a harsh kiss leaves you dizzy and moaning dreamily into his mouth. His words wash across your lips like a warm and slow, yet seething tide while he rolls his hips upward to meet your silky folds.

“You better not stop… You better not _fucking_ stop.”


	2. Carlos/Reader - Smut Prompt #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Is there anything from the ask meme you're uncomfortable writing? If you're okay with it I would love #1 for a Carlos x Reader
> 
> 1: "Don't make me take you home and punish you."

"Hey, watch out, fox!"

His voice reaches you just in time to ignite a swift reaction before narrowly finding out what secrets the undead keep in their rotted mouths. You pivot on your heel, using the momentum to drive your shin into their stomach which gives like wet paper against a baseball bat. They collide with the wall and you keep them pinned there with a few bullets to the chest and, finally, its head. It falls to the ground with a squelch-like slap, releasing that definitive last breath. The two of you let out a resounding sigh, though there's a tinge of something more ruffled mixed within the relief in his breath.

"You should be more careful. You were almost zombie chow there, boss."

He feels a little miffed when he watches you casually check your ammunition clip, let out a noncommittal grunt, and promptly shove the magazine back in its place. You don't even look at him when you finally respond.

"Almost, but not quite."

He doesn't like that answer.

"I'm serious." His change in tone is ultimately what makes you turn toward him. "Next time we get cornered like that you might not be so lucky."

"There won't be a next time. You know why?"

"Why?"

You stride over and prop your right elbow on his right shoulder, resting your chin on your arm as you beam excitedly at him.

"'Cause this is the last room we had to sweep for this building and that means that we no longer have to hang around here. And you know what _that_ means?"

"No, what?"

"We can finally go get some food. I want a hot dog." You sighed and he laughed. "Doesn't that sound nice?"

He looks at you behind wisps of drooping hair with that same stern look from before though it's not nearly as grave.

"What would be nice is if you took the safety of your own well-being seriously."

You tilt your head and playfully pout at him. "Who says I don't?"

"The guy who literally just almost watched a zombie take a chunk out of your neck."

You hum as you look away, dramatically so. You almost had him fooled, thinking for a second that you might actually be considering his genuine concern. "I think you're just overreacting."

He opens his mouth with the intent to scold you more about your lackadaisical attitude but finds himself moving towards a different route of action.

"I can handle myself, ya kno- hey!"

Carlos wraps his arms around your waist and suddenly you find your back being slammed onto a nearby wooden desk after an abrupt pull. The wind is almost knocked out of you, a dazed sensation dripping up your neck.

"You can play the badass all you want, but sooner or later that careless bravado of yours is gonna get you killed. I know you can take care of yourself. I know what you're capable of and what your limits are."

His eyes are hidden as he speaks, watching one hand slowly slip beneath your top, feeling your balmy skin jump against his cold fingers. "But I care about you. I want you to be safe. I want you to be cautious. I want you to just... give a damn!"

Your breath catches when he roughly pulls you closer to him, tight hands on your waist with your knees bent over his hips, your groin now slotted against his. "If anything happened to you... if you got infected or _worse_..."

"Carlos..."

He still wouldn't look at you. He released a shaky breath and took one of your hands in his, spreading it over his sternum. His heart was thumping rapidly. You felt it between your legs, too.

"Don't force me to make that kind of decision. Not with you."

He looks at you then. What you see is opaque and forlorn. It makes you want to push him down and climb on top of him. Take away any agency he thinks he has in this situation and remind him of who you are. But that's not what he needs right now, nor what he wants. That's not the kind of game you two are playing.

"What do I have to do to get you to listen, huh?" Carlos grips your thighs and grinds his swelling cock against your core. You bite your lip to suppress the urge to whimper, to start begging. The audacity, he might think, if you did. "Do I have to fuck some sense into you? Do I have to _punish_ you just so you can understand?"

You remember the last time he reprimanded you for bad behavior and just the recollection of it is enough to induce a feverish phantom of his handprint on your ass to appear. You shiver and minutely roll your hips, meeting his silent rhythm. He shakes his head and the timbre in his voice takes on a more rumbling quality.

"Oh, you don't want _that_ again, do you, fox? I might not be so nice this time." He drawls.

You laugh briefly though it comes out more like a harsh exhale. Carlos grabs the front of your top and yanks you toward him with little effort, practically giving you whiplash. He's so close. Your breaths becoming enmeshed with each other.

"Don't make me take you home and punish you."

The two of you stare at each other for a time that feels longer than it actually is, but it can be measured by the heat and the heady anticipation seeping off the both of you, like scattered dust in the air. Instead of sullying your answer with words that might reveal too much too soon at such a wrong time and place, you opt with first playfully flicking your tongue across his upper lip before sinking your teeth into his bottom lip. He grabs a fistful of your hair and tugs your head back just enough so you can see the smoke and mirth seething in a hazel storm. At least he seems pleased with you now.

"Home and punishment it is."


	3. Carlos/Reader - Smut Prompt #64 & #86

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: 64, 86 carlosxreader 🥴❤️
> 
> 64: “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole.”  
> 86: “I don’t care what you do just fuck me.”

It was just some harmless flirting. At least, to you it was. Maybe even to the bartender polishing a freshly washed shot glass. She’s gotta be used to seeing these kinds of interactions day in and day out, whether she wanted to overhear too much or not. But to Carlos, who was quietly nursing a pint of beer in an empty booth, it became more and more of an objectionable offense the longer he watched you and one of the men he worked with getting on just a little _too_ well. And he swore that he knew what you were doing. Or that _you_ knew what you were doing. To him.

Though you were casually leaning back in your seat at the bar, legs crossed and body facing the man you were chatting with about non-work related matters, he always caught those little glances you would toss his way to peck at. You _knew_ he was watching. He doesn’t have to mull about whether the way you tilt your head when you would speak to show off the skin of your neck is blatant or purely accidental. Because with you and with him, it’s never an accident.

The warm light hanging above the counter brings a shine to your eyes when you laugh at something his co-worker says, playfully giving his arm a light nudge. Carlos starts to drink a little more briskly. His glass was now half empty, and he squinted from across the bar as you leaned in close to whisper something in that man’s ear. You didn’t even cup your hand over your mouth to hide what you were saying. You might as well have been whispering to everyone in the building who could listen. Your knowing eyes flicker in Carlos’s direction and he almost chokes on his lukewarm beer, feels it threaten to creep up into his nose.

You pull back and laugh again and so does the man this time. Carlos somehow finds just enough restraint in him to keep from slamming the bottom of his clear glass onto the table, lest it shatter and bring unwanted attention. Though he does place it with a little more of a heated oomph. He wipes his mouth with his forearm and strides over to the bar, boots thumping against the wood with purpose. He doesn’t even acknowledge your new friend when he gets close enough to lean toward your cheek.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” He mumbles in your ear, _sounding_ more worked up than he looked.

You finish your drink and smile at him like you don’t know what’s about to happen. “Sure!” You give a friendly touch to his co-worker’s wrist, still smiling. “It was lovely chatting with you. See you around, Paul!”

Paul returns the sentiment and you slip out of your seat to follow Carlos toward the back exit. Even in the chill of the night, your skin feels deceptively hot beneath the silky material of your blouse. Maybe it’s the cocktail. Maybe it’s the anticipation. He checks every open corner and nook in the dimly lit alley beside the small tavern, one of his many habits, and once he determines that the two of you are completely alone he closes the space between the both of you, towering over you.

“So, you wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?”

You have to crane your neck slightly to get a good look at his face and you’re able to verify that he’s not necessarily _mad_ , but he’s not exactly pleased.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” You answer with a coy grin. He shakes his head.

“Oh no, don’t you start playin’ dumb now. You know what I mean.”

“I was just having a nice, cordial chat with a new friend. That’s all.” You say with a shrug. He doesn’t feel like buying it just yet.

“Yeah? You always get that cozy with every new friend you make?” His hands are on his hips now. You know he's not _trying_ to make himself look intimidating. Because to you, he doesn't look that way at all. More like a parent interrogating a child for something they did or didn't do.

“Sounds like someone’s a little jealous.”

He actually laughs at that. His eyes leave your face and find a more interesting spot on the brick wall behind you. Someone carved the words, _call me!_ along with a line of dashes and numbers. Someone else responded with their own carving that read, _AS IF._

“Did you know that Paul used to work in Umbrella’s tourism firm, the Paraguas Line Company?” You tip your head in his direction to try and gain his attention again, but he wouldn’t let you have it. He was looking at a slew of graffiti instead.

“He’s taken people everywhere. Europe, Africa, South America. He’s seen it all. He’s _done_ it all. From drinkin’ out of coconuts on soft white beaches and splashin’ around in oceans bluer than curacao liqueur, to munchin’ on a fresh quiche for breakfast outside of a little cafe in The Côte d'Azur and harvesting Sorento lemons in October.”

He’s tapping his foot now, still refusing to look at you even though you also catch him stealing his own glances. You notice that those quick peeks seem to get snagged on your lips every time. This makes you smile and he gets stuck in your teeth, too.

“You wanna know somethin’ else about Paul?”

The muscles in his jaw visibly tense just a bit underneath all of that dark scruff and he puffs out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

“Lemme guess, he’s got a shinier pension plan? A timeshare in the Bahamas? Any other fantastic fringe benefits I’m forgetting? Uhh... Oh! Does he have dental? I bet he has _great_ dental.”

You expected this amount of snark for how much you rattled him throughout the night. It was oozing out of him like when you take a scraper across a heavy slab of honeycomb. Seeing him get so riled up was more blood-pumping than taking down a horde of the undead.

You boldly take a step closer to him, carefully pressing your chest against his. You lean up on your toes and whisper in his ear.

“His wife is a researcher at the Alexander Institute of Biotechnology in Chicago.”

Carlos sighs through his nose and hangs his neck as he slowly brings his arms up to place his hands on either side of your head against the wall behind you. His forehead is pressed against your collarbone.

Got ‘em.

“He says that she’s _wonderful_ at what she does." You say into his hair. "The best and brightest out of everyone there. Oh! And they actually met while Paul was guiding a cruise across the Mediterranean coast, and at that very same lemon grove in Sorento. Isn’t that romanti-”

His lips are rough and demanding when they find yours, catching your breath and discarding any more trivial things to make room for his tongue. You do your best not to smile into the kiss, you really do. You try to match his frustrated tempo with a few placating licks of your own. But he’s just so damn cute when he’s embarrassed. His teeth give your bottom lip a stern pinch before he releases to scowl at you.

“You must think you’re pretty funny, huh? Cute, even.”

You shrugged once more. “Maybe a little. I definitely am cute, though.”

Carlos hummed, giving you ample time to get everything out of your system now before he ended your little game.

“And he does have good dental. His teeth are pretty nice. Great smile.”

Even through the fabric of your blouse, you can feel the blazing heat coming from his palms as they slide down your arms, your elbows, bringing the blood in your wrists to a simmer.

“Glad you had a good time. Now, I’m sure you know what comes next, don’t you, fox?”

Though he looks to be in better spirits at the moment, you can’t stop yourself from pressing your lips together to hide your cheeky smile. You take your time as you answer him, walking your fingers up his chest and innocently picking lint off the collar of his shirt.

“Burgers and a milkshake for two? I am feeling a little peckish.”

He shakes his head, pulling you even closer.

“Another stiff drink to shake off all that embarrassment?”

“You wish.” Your arms are coiled around his neck now.

“Hmm... I dunno, Corporal. Why don’t you tell me?”

The hands that had been burning a steady path down your waist come to a halt at your hips to snake around for a good grip on your ass and haul you up. The wind is practically knocked out of you and a breathy whimper slips past your lips. He’s got you trapped between, literally, a rock and a hard place, with the hem of your skirt slipping up and over your waist.

He discovers then that you weren’t wearing anything else underneath. That has him practically _panting_ on the spot.

You were enraptured by the intensely potent look in his eyes that held you just as tightly, that bruised you as lovingly as his hands did to your supple body.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever even met that asshole _._ ” He growled with a greedy sort of spark that you’d never heard before.

“Don’t be mean. That asshole’s name is Paul.” His eyes roll at your lighthearted chiding, but soon he’s huffing abruptly against your chest when he feels your hand dip past his pants to rub his erection through his boxers. The chill of your fingers has him jolting and bucking into your touch.

You completely undo his belt and pop the silver button on his jeans, teasing his lips with a quick swipe of your tongue as you leisurely pull down the zipper.

“And I don’t care what you do,” He helps you push his pants and boxers out of the way, releasing his aching cock to the night air. He lowers you down just a bit, just enough to have you lined up perfectly. He adjusts so your knees are slung over his arms, holding you with ease. Carlos swallows hard, breathes heavily against your lips as he eagerly waits for you to say it, chants it in his mind.

Say it. Say it, _please_. He can't take much more! Please say it!

“ _Just fuck me_ , _Carlos_.”


	4. Jill/Reader - Smut Prompt #92

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: 92 for Jill x Reader please my gay heart needs it
> 
> 92: “I’m not going to touch you unless you beg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my women loving ass really went all out on this one and I'm actually really happy with how it turned out. like, god, I'm so fucking soft 😩 I hope you guys enjoy!

Despite how hot-headed she could be, and how quick she was to jump into action out on the field at the drop of a bullet, Jill was almost deceptively patient and methodical when she decided to spend her quiet nights with you. There was a meticulous pace that her fingers followed as they danced across the slope of your neck, your rising chest, the dip of your waist, the hillside of your hip. You'd come to discover that women like her seemed to have a penchant for slow-dancing without music. There was only your breathing, her sighs, the rustling of clothes, the wooden floor creaking beneath your feet as the both of you swayed together; got swept up in each other, drowning willfully as you stayed anchored to each other's bodies.

A song that can't be heard stops playing and another dance begins. She presses you down onto the bed, slips her tongue in your mouth and follows the swell of your breasts with her palms. You mirror her, tugging down her tank top to tease her nipples, now taut and rosy. Jill hums, a disapproving little sound even though her skin reacts to your touch like a scorching wind. Her hands take your wrists and push them into the pillows above your head, telling them to _stay put._ She was the one in charge of stoking the hearth fire between the two of you tonight.

Those strong hands slipped back down your arms once they determined you were going to behave. They cupped your face with a tenderness you wouldn't expect from someone like her at a first glance. Everything left unspoken she conveys through her bite, teeth passionate little daggers set against your neck and you're reminded who you're burning for. Jill takes great joy in hearing you whimper, in feeling the waves of your body washing against her as her fingertips continue to push all of your buttons.

She pinches your nipples, squeezes your waist, brands your naked skin with her mouth. She sucks at the flesh of your hip bones to paint you with matching bruises, her favorite accessory on you. You buck your hips up in a silent plea. She's so close to where you want her. Your legs are already spreading to accommodate her, giving her all the space she needs, _wants._ You want to give her everything. Jill feels some indescribable delight at how honest your desperation for her is.

"Look at you. Such a sexy little thing, all spread out like this for me."

Her purrs are like midnight, and she's staining your thighs with pink moonflowers that will bloom until daybreak. Her lips keep getting closer and closer to yours. She keeps leaving open-mouthed kisses on every inch of you except for where you need her most. You're _burning_. Jill can tell by how heavy your breaths are; and how you're obediently keeping your hands where she left them but your body won't stop squirming.

Deciding to be a little more merciful, she gives your velvet folds a slow, soothing lick, flicking the tip of her tongue across your swelling clit. You jolt and clutch at the pillows, filling the room with the melody of your mewls.

_Cute_ , Jill thinks. Something she can dance to.

Her hands massage the meat of your thighs while she starts to tread a measure to the sound of your breathing. Every time you inhale, she nuzzles her nose against the soft hairs of your pubis, committing your scent to memory. When you exhale, she does the same, breath like a glacial fire on your wet skin. When you bite your lip to stifle your moans, she nudges the hood of your clit back with the tip of her tongue and embellishes it with kisses that demand a response. When you rock your hips upward, she smooths you back down, pins you to the bed with fingers that dwindle between the lines of authoritative and provoking. She knows you want something.

"You know I can't read minds, baby. If you want me to do something, you're gonna have to be a little more verbal."

The stubborn bull within you rears its head and you nearly shove your face to the side to keep your indignant blush a secret, groaning quietly. But you were never very good at keeping secrets from Jill Valentine.

Her voice is almost unnervingly sweet, and it has you thinking about the first time you had eaten a fig when you were younger.

"C'mon, I just wanna hear that pretty voice of yours." Her teeth sink into your inner thigh again, more pressure behind it, threatening to devour you alive.

You yelp and toss a pillow at her head though she just laughs when it hits her, impervious to your little tantrums.

She pushes it away and tries again a little nicer this time, but the persistence in her voice is unwavering to the heat of your glaring pout.

"Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. It's as easy as that."

"With you, nothing's ever that easy." You huff. "You're too greedy, always wanting more."

She smiles against your leg, giving it a kiss. "Humor me."

First, you sigh, long and loud so she can hear it, so she can feel your flustered annoyance against her face when it comes billowing out of your nose. Then you inhale, steeling yourself for the inevitable teasing that's sure to follow as soon as you voice your desires.

You look her right in the eyes. Those stupidly pretty, blazing blue eyes.

"I... I want you to touch me."

"How?"

You blink and your heart starts to pound. No matter how many times you've done this song and dance, no matter how carefully she's mapped out every inch of you, she still toyed with you as if this were some new affair.

"You _know_ how." You grunt. She shrugs. The slyest cat in the neighborhood and she knew it.

"Maybe I do. But I wanna hear you _say_ it. Just a few little words and I'll make it ha-"

"I want you to finger me!" You almost shout, your voice subdued by the internal awareness that you had neighbors above and below you.

Her grin makes your face burn even hotter and you swear you're going to ignite right before her eyes.

" _Ohh~_ Is that right?" She hummed.

You nod and she sits up on her knees between your legs, pushing your thighs to your stomach. Your pussy throbs with need and you can feel your silky cyprine dribbling onto the sheets. She's barely even gotten started and you're already _soaking_ for her.

Jill drags her dull nails across the back of your thighs, trailing inward toward the apex of you, decorating you with soft red threads. You feel a thrum of an unfettered fever beginning to take root in your belly as she inches closer and closer.

"You know..." Her fingertips teasingly flickered over the hairs atop your aching mound. "There is _one_ more thing I'd like from you."

Your head falls back and you release an exasperated groan. "Ugh, god. There it is. I knew it."

Jill giggles, ever so pleased with herself and your reaction. "I want you to beg for it."

"Jill, c'mon, please don't ma-"

“ _I’m not going to touch you unless you beg_.”

To prove to you the validity of her claim, her hands began a slow crawl away from your hammering flesh and towards the inside of your knees.

She really wasn't going to give it to you easy, was she? On any other night, she might be a little more kind. Spare you all the teasing and embarrassment for something a little more passionate, with laced fingers and tender moments that feel like a slip of the tongue. If you didn't get to feel her touch inside you tonight, you were sure you would crumble like the cinders in a dying fire.

Swallowing the thick, tart pill of your pride, you peer up at her with a flushed face and determination.

"Please..."

"What's that?" She turns her head to show you her right ear. "I can't quite hear you, baby."

You raise the volume just a little, wiggling your hips impatiently. "Please! Jill, I want you to touch me!"

Jill hums to herself as if picking apart your declaration to find that pit of sincerity inside, though she’s felt it already in your soft weeping flesh. Her hips rock back and forth just a little to grind herself against you. The fabric of her shorts catches on your bare skin like itchy, taunting thorns.

" _Please_ , babe? I just want to feel you inside me. I wanna come for you. I want to come all over your fingers. I want to taste myself on your lips when you kiss me. I just... _I want you, Jill_."

Her lips part slightly and she simply stares at you for a second longer than intended, causing the hive in your head to stir with even more cries of humiliation. Maybe it's because of the harsh glow coming from the neon lights perched outside on the opposite building of your apartment, but you thought you could see a dusky pink color blooming across her cheeks.

Her eyes flutter to the floor for a moment as she seems to collect herself. You wished _you_ could read minds at that moment. You go to speak, ask if you said something wrong, but she takes that chance away from you when her fingers return to your glistening folds and you gasp, pleasantly surprised. Jill rubs you at her leisure, falling back into that diligent cadence of hers as she coats two of her digits with your generous silken honeydew.

As she looks down at you she finds herself falling in love all over again with the way you sing and dance for her.

"Well...since you asked so nicely."


	5. Carlos/Reader - Smut Prompt #39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: Pretty pretty please☆ 39, with carlos x reader cuz i have an extreme thirst♡♡♡
> 
> 39: “Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?”

He wasn't sure what was going on this week, but he swore you were up to something.

It all started Monday morning, the beginning of a busy work week for both you and Carlos. You were in the kitchen cooking breakfast, pancakes with a warm cream cheese frosting, humming and swaying in your pajama shorts and a tank top while you whisked the batter. He shuffled into the kitchen with a 'good morning' yawn, immediately going for the fresh pot of coffee. You greeted him, pouring some batter into the sizzling pan. He was leaning against the counter, sipping his hot cup of Joe when you turned to ask him if he slept well as he'd been having trouble just keeping his eyes closed most nights. Those tired eyes of his zeroed in on your chest, something white and translucent drizzled across your cleavage. He almost choked.

"You've got- um..." His voice rumbles out from behind the ceramic mug, teetering off as he continued to stare as if he had fallen into a trance. You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue. "Your chest. There's... stuff on your-." He points at you and draws in the air with his finger.

You look down and click your tongue. "Ugh, damn it." You whined. "Guess I wasn't paying much attention while I was making the frosting."

You tug down the front of your top just enough to reveal the rest of the sticky mess and, inadvertently, the valley between your breasts. Carlos watches you drag two fingers through one of the many tiny ropes of frosting and place them in your mouth. His cock stirs at the sight and he finds himself completely mesmerized. You pick up as much as you can, casually cleaning off your digits with your tongue like he's not in your company, mumbling to yourself that at least you didn't do a bad job. Carlos wonders if you'd let him rut his cock between your breasts so he could paint your chest and watch you lap all that up as well. Then the two of you would eat the pancakes you'd made right after and he'd give you a lingering kiss and be on his way.

His eyes dart to the tiny clock on Mr. Coffee. He doesn't have time. With a sigh he sets down his cup and lumbers over to you to plant a kiss to your forehead, doing all he can to avoid looking at your chest any longer lest he ends up being late.

"You're not gonna eat?" You pout up at him and he gives an apologetic smile.

"I gotta go in early today. New recruits. 'Lot of ropes to show."

"Fiiine." You groan dramatically, though he knows you're not actually upset. "Don't go too easy on 'em."

He chuckles and gives you one last kiss to the crown of your head. "You got it, boss."

* * *

The next day, he had found a pair of your panties, the thin kind with a lot of lace embroidered on it, in the back pocket of his pants. He wasn't even the one to notice them first. One of the new recruits had openly pointed at something pink poking out of his pocket, nosy as to what it was. He tugged it out and immediately crushed it in his hand before shoving it back into his pants upon realizing that it wasn’t a handkerchief. The other men snickered amongst themselves and Carlos roughly cleared his throat. "Alright, alright. Settle down."

He called you as soon as he was on his lunch break.

"Any idea how your panties ended up in my back pocket, babe?"

"Hm? My panties?" You sounded genuinely confused over the soft tapping of your fingers on a keyboard.

"Well, they're not _mine_. Pink and lace aren't exactly my style."

"Ohh!

I was wondering where those went! Must've gotten mixed together during laundry day. I usually wash the intimates separately."

He pulls your underwear back out to look at them. The silky fabric felt soothing against the new callouses sprouting on his palm. He's curious how they might feel wrapped around his rousing cock.

"Guess so..." He mutters to himself.

Your voice cuts through the polluted thoughts filling his mind and he's reminded then by the silent ticking coming from the wall that, once again, he doesn't have the time to find out.

"Is there any chance you could swing by the grocery store after work? We're running low on eggs."

"Sure thing."

* * *

By Wednesday, his suspicions were steadily mounting to almost headache-inducing levels. You had stopped by his workplace to go over paperwork with one of the higher-ups, something boring. Carlos was tasked with helping you pull down some files in one of the archive rooms. He watched you squat down in front of one of the shelves to pull out one of the many brown boxes on the bottom, sifting through its contents. Carlos finds that he _really_ likes you in formal wear. A blazer, dress pants, and heels were a good look on you.

"Carlos, can you reach up there and start pulling down the boxes at the top for me?" You pull him out of his thoughts yet again and he carefully walks over to you, shins gently nudging against your back as he reaches up and grabs a box with both hands.

He keeps up this uniform pace; taking boxes from the top shelf and placing them in a pile to your right while you search the pile you've made beside your left. He's not even entirely sure what you're looking for and he figures he should probably ask. But your exclamation catches him by surprise, as does the way that your body is slotted up against him when you suddenly rise to your feet.

"Oh! I think that's the one!" You take his arms and lower them so they're caging either side of your waist, removing the flimsy top to the box he's still holding. Carlos swallows hard, staring at your hands from over your shoulder as you rummage through the files. Your ass is perfectly pressed right into his crotch, warm and soft. It rubs against him in such an unassuming manner as you shift your hip to one side. You're not even leaning any of your weight into him but he can feel every inch of you through his clothes, licking at the sweat on his skin like fire on gasoline.

There's no way you _can't_ feel how hard he's getting. Just as he starts imagining just how fucking hot it would be if you let him fuck you right up against these shelves in this cramped dingy space, if you let him stuff his now aching cock into you from behind while he uses his fingers to keep you quiet, you're tilting your head up to peck his chin and slipping out of his arms before he can even muster up a single word.

"Found it! Thanks a bunch, babe. I'll be back to help you clean up in a sec!"

You trot out of the room with the files you were looking for, leaving him with a box that was slowly beginning to slip out of his clammy palms and a throbbing hard-on. His groans fill the stuffy room, frustrated and grumpy. When you had returned to help him as you said, the boxes that had been disturbed were put back in their place, though precariously and not alphabetically, and Carlos was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Thursday was the day he was sure he would combust on the spot. You had the day off while he was scrambling to get out of the door on time, somehow managing to snooze through his alarm once sleep had finally found him. While he was in the bathroom briskly scrubbing his teeth, he catches something out of his peripheral vision in the shower, something pale pink and... thick.

He slides the glass door open and nearly spits up all the foaming toothpaste in his mouth. It's one of your toys, a dildo, your favorite one, suctioned to one of the tiles on the shower wall at a particular height. Upon closer inspection, he notices that it's got a glossy wet look to it that he knows isn't water. It looked as if it had just been used.

He could feel his heartbeat in his groin again as he stared at it with his toothbrush dangling between his lips. When did you use it? This morning? You did wake up before he did, and it's not like he could go and ask you about it since you were already gone to take care of errands. He _could_ text or call you, but... He starts to imagine how you must've looked when you decided to play. Hands pressed against the glass, fogged-up with steam, wriggling your pussy back onto the heavy hanging toy while your moans get drowned out by the rushing water crashing down on your dipping back.

Did you think of him while you were fucking yourself? Did you imagine it was his cock instead? Were you breathing his name into the glass so he wouldn't hear you? If you needed to get off so bad, you should've just asked him to take care of you! He would even lay there and let you use him, use his body, his hot cock to chase your pleasure. Ride him all throughout the early morning haze, coming over and over again around him and letting him fill you up with copious amounts of his cum.

He finished brushing his teeth with yet another painful erection that he couldn't take care of because time just wouldn’t allow it. Thoughts of you naked and writhing beneath him, fervently sucking him off, peering over your shoulder at him with that knowing smirk as his hips slam into the plump flesh of your ass are all that flood his head for the rest of what felt like the longest day of the week for Carlos.

* * *

After another tedious and grueling day of work, he was ready to go home and enjoy a nice relaxing weekend with you. Friday could've come sooner but he was too exhausted to complain, too eager to get inside and wash off the sweat and grime of the day. He stumbles through the door and his eyes are scanning the apartment for you almost instantly.

"Babe? You home?" He calls out, toeing off his boots by the door.

"In the bedroom!" Your voice echoes from down the hall, a sound he's quick to follow despite the fatigue setting in his body. When he finds you, the sight is enough to have him quietly groaning to himself, something familiar churning in his lower belly.

"Hey! How was work?" You ask cheerfully, naturally, as if you weren't just laying in bed on your belly reading a magazine, wearing one of his shirts with the sleeves rolled up to your shoulders, and some panties. The very same ones that had found their way into his pocket on Tuesday.

"Fine." He mutters though he isn't sure if you even heard him.

You toss the magazine onto the end table next to the bed and hop up onto your knees to stretch your arms above your head with a soft sound of exertion. His eyes never leave the sight of the sheer rosy fabric framing your ass.

"I just got off a few hours ago. It was _such_ a slow day. But, T.G.I.F., right?"

You slide off the mattress and saunter towards the door, your arm brushing across his and you swear you feel him tense up at such a passing touch. A quiet current flowing through a tightly wound wick that was ready to ignite at the smallest spark.

“I’m gonna take a shower.”

His hand grabs your wrist and holds you in place for the merest of seconds before he whips you around to face him. “ _Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?_ ”

The look of surprise you give is authentic enough to have him second-guessing himself. Your blinking eyes, tilting head, and questioning hum almost dry up all the grounds for such a snap interrogation.

“I thought that maybe you really _weren’t_ paying attention that morning when you got frosting all over your chest. And maybe you really _did_ get our laundry mixed up cause there’s no way you could’ve slipped your panties into my pants without me knowing. But your little stunt at the office? And leaving your toy out in the bathroom where you knew I would see it? And now this?”

He gestures at his shirt hanging off your body, barely covering the lace culprit he had mentioned. “I’m startin’ to think that these little coincidences aren’t actually so coincidental.”

The look you give him could best be described as cat-like. A cat who rolled her red ball of yarn wherever she went with her tail held high cause she knew a certain someone would inevitably get snagged in her threads. And he was the big cute puppy she had banked on who got all tangled up.

“It took you this long to come to that conclusion, huh?”

The look on _his_ face you would describe as utterly dumbfounded. Whether it was because of your overtly bold confession to his allegations or the fact that you weren’t coyly trying to deny it like he must’ve thought you would, you weren’t really sure.

“It started out as a coincidence that Monday morning, I’ll give you that much. But after I saw how riled up you got because of it -and don’t try to act like you hid it well- I just wanted to see how far I could take this little experiment before you caught on.”

You easily slipped your wrist from his hand, slowly slinking back inch by inch toward the door. “And especially since we were both gonna be too busy and tired through the week to even _do_ anything, I thought it would be fun to keep you all hot and bothered for me until the weekend when we _could_ let loose.”

You pause in the doorway, watching his expression. Heat had flooded his face, all the way to the tips of his ears though his hair did a good job hiding that. He looked like he was still processing all the details, seemingly at a loss for words at the moment. You took the opportunity to pull off his shirt, leaving you completely bare to him sans those damnable panties.

“I really am surprised it took until the end of the week for you to figure me out. And you’re accusing _me_ of being the oblivious one?”

Whatever words he did manage to find come out in a splutter, the flush on his cheeks clouding over. His eyes follow the curve of your spine when you turn your back to him and playfully wiggle your hips.

“C’mon, puppy. You scrub my back and I’ll scrub yours. And maybe I’ll even show you how I used that toy of mine yesterday.”

The look you give him and those tacked on odds are ultimately what propels him forward, scooping you up into his arms and giving your shoulder an impish bite, relishing the taste of your skin and the sounds of your squeals and giggles as he carries you toward the bathroom.

He snarls into your ear, "You’re in for one hell of a weekend, fox."


	6. Carlos/Reader - Smut Prompt #6 & #22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: 22 +6 with Carlos please!
> 
> 6: "Would you just shut up and kiss me already?"  
> 22: "Mine."

"Who does this belong to?" He demands with a gruff resonance that has you spreading your wobbly legs further apart. His fingers tapped at your clit, the possession in question, and he can't help but smirk at the way your hips jolt upward in response to his touch. Always _so_ responsive. One arm keeps you trapped to him, your back glued to his chest. Luckily, he's allowed you to sling one of your legs across his thigh behind you and you hold onto that lifeline for all that you're worth.

You're looking at where his hand rests between your sticky thighs, entranced by the deliberate rotations of his wrist, the strategic change in rhythm that makes your legs quiver. He flattens his palm and smacks your plump lips. The sound of the impact and your yelp is all that fills the otherwise quiet room.

"I said, who does this pussy belong to?!" He smacks it again, a sweet sting rushing to the surface.

"You!" He doesn't let up, using his free hand to tilt your head back and looking at you expectantly. "My pussy belongs to you!" You cry, face flushed.

"That's right." He all but purrs. " _Mine_." Carlos rolled your clit beneath two fingers, a delicious reprieve.

"Who do you belong to?" Those fingers are teasing your entrance now, circling and gently pulling you apart.

"I..." Your words get tangled between your teeth, eyes blinking shut. His fingertip starts tapping again, impatiently, at where you want him most.

"C'mon, baby. Tell me. Who do you belong to?"

"I belong to you, Carlos." You mewl into his cheek, breath ghosting the corner of his mouth. He seems very satisfied with your answer, your affirmation. Those two fingers slip inside you with an ease that has you hiding your face against his neck.

"Good girl." He coos. "You're always such a good girl for me."

He nudges you away from his neck so he can lavish yours with hot, open-mouthed kisses. His fingers are deliberately slow, spreading apart every so often, stretching you open at his leisure.

"You're always so hot and wet for me. It drives me crazy."

His lips are dancing across your jawline. You can't stop your hips from moving. He hugs you tighter and you can feel his heartbeat beside your own. "I just wanna fuck you for hours. And you'd let me, wouldn't you?"

He picks up the pace, the slick rhythmic smacking of his palm against your lips with the mounting speed of his fingers turns your ears red. All you can do is whimper.

"I could fuck you however I want. Keep you so full of my cock and my cum that it's all you can feel. All you can think about is how _full_ you are of me." His teeth press into your skin. " _Only me_."

You feel a pinch at your ear and his searing breath sweeps across you like the wind in summer. "Cause you're mine." He presses a kiss to your pulse, tender, and lingering, unlike his wild fingers. "And I'm yours."

You let out a harsh, breathy moan, reaching a hand into his hair to hold him in place while you turn your head to give him a fiercely passionate look. One that he's seen many times. One that he'll never tire of.

"Would you just shut up and kiss me already?"

And he does. And he doesn't stop until he takes every last drop of you. Until he's drowning in your moans and your gasps and your tongue and your honey. Until you're both filled to the brim with each other, two sated beasts for however many hours the moon has left.

Until the hunger inevitably returns with the sun in the morning.


	7. Carlos/Reader - Smut Prompt #41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked: carlos x reader with 41. “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.” I'm really a whore for this man what can I say
> 
> 41: “The only way you’re getting off is on my thigh.”

"Carlos, c'mon! This isn't fair!" He was already maneuvering you across his lap, your new seat becoming one of his large thighs with your knees resting on either side.

"Who said I like to play fair?" He smirked, rubbing and squeezing your sides with those big warm hands. "Maybe I like to play a little dirty every now and then."

You scoffed. "Every now and then?"

"Well, maybe only when I wanna watch you work for it..."

"Which is always!" You give him a look of disbelief. He shrugs, unbothered, and unapologetic.

"Can you blame me? You just look so pretty like this." Like this, meaning completely naked on top of his leg while he's still wearing a shirt and some sweatpants. Again, not fair. His eyes zigzag across your body, drinking in the sight of you. It's hard to feel cold beneath a gaze that trails a path of fire into your skin.

He cups both of your breasts, rolling your taut nipples with his thumbs. You push your chest into his palms with a throaty moan and he leans forward to meet you. He gives one of those rosy buds a quick swipe with his tongue before sucking it into his warm mouth. You feel a throb in your clit and your hips begin to slowly sway back and forth, compelled by the movements of his lips and tongue. Carlos gives a soft grunt of approval; however, his hands find their grip at your haunches, dragging you even closer on his thigh while he gives your nipple an enthusiastic but gentle bite.

He switches to your other breast, lavishing you with love bites, painting different shades of red on your skin where you know it will dim into a deep purple tomorrow. You watch him do this, breathing and moaning through open lips. He watches you, though you have to push some of his hair away to get a good look at those scorching eyes. He grins at you with your bud between his teeth. Your face becomes flooded with heat and you have half a mind to push away that smug fucking face, but with your nipple still caught in that maw of his, you reconsider. That kind of pain wouldn't be worth it.

"What'ssa matter, baby?" He askes through his teeth, quickly catching that frustrated look you're giving him. The muscles in his thigh tense underneath you as he nudges his leg upward, rubbing at your sopping core. "Aren'tcha enjoyin' yerself?"

There was a gratuitous wet spot blossoming across the cloth of his sweats where you sat, still swirling your hips, getting lost in the way your clit would catch on the fabric. You feel his fingers, spread out and slowly sliding their way down your belly. Your skin jumps excitedly at his touch. He inches lower and lower, closer, taking his time to get between your thighs. When he gets there his fingers massage your slick lips in an idle manner, avoiding that one spot he knows you want those digits.

"Carlooos!" You whine, steering your hips to try and nudge his fingers just a little bit closer to your clit. Even the smallest brush might be enough to make you come undone with how pent up you are and, as embarrassing as it is, you would take it. "C'mon, I just wanna come!"

He tutted you, his hand strolling leisurely back up your belly. "Remember what I said, baby?" You turn your head to avoid his mirthful gaze but he takes your chin and guides your face right back to him. His lips are just barely touching yours and the heat of his breath is making your head swim.

" _The only way you're getting off is on my thigh_."

He releases you and your head falls back as you let out a frustrated groan, a little on the dramatic side. He just laughs and coils his arms around your lower back. "I know you can do it."

"But your hands feel so much better!"

"And just imagine how _good_ I'll make you feel right after you come like this for me."

You curl over and rest your forehead in the crook of his neck with a defeated sigh. He kisses your shoulder. "C'mon, sweetheart." His hands find your hips again. His lips are by your ear, plush, and warm. "Be a good girl and come for me.” You whimper when you feel him start an encore of that push and pull swing with your body. "All you gotta do is move those pretty little hips..."

You grip the front of his shirt, taking the rhythm he's set and running with it. He hums, delighted, keeping one hand against your spine while the other runs through your hair. "That's it, baby."

You're rocking at a pace that's not fast nor slow, losing yourself to the friction you were lazily drawing out. The tempo of your movements was always changing, either of your own volition or by the quiet urging of his hands. When you were content with some light grinding, he was pulling you in, languid and deep. When you were just beginning to find your step in that slow dance he had introduced, he was tugging at you with a growl that reminded you that Carlos was as impatient as he was deliberate.

With the crown of your head pressed to his shoulder, you watch his cock throb and twitch beneath his sweatpants, straining tight against the fabric. The sight alone is enough to make your mouth water, pleasured mewls, and heated breaths escaping your lips as you move a little faster now. The sooner you could get off the sooner you'd be able to rip those stupid pants off of him and take what's yours.

"There you go, sweetheart. Just like that." His fingers are gently framing your jawline, angling your head up so you're eye-level with him. He's almost breathing as heavy as you are and seeing him like that tugs the corner of your mouth just a bit for a quick smile.

"I want you to come nice and hard for me."

He's not even asking or demanding yet you find yourself nodding along to his wish, either way, your fingers pressing into his chest as your hips reach a fervent pace. He continues to praise you, urging you on with borderline blue movie words, sharp kisses, and tight hands. He laces his fingers through your hair, tugging lightly at the roots. You tilt back and shiver as you feel his mouth slide up your neck to that spot just below your ear.

"Come for papa."

First, you feel a spark ignite in your lower belly. Then it flashes through you like lightning, setting your nerves alight as you shudder and moan wildly. Carlos keeps your hips moving even when it starts to become too much, too _hot_ , one hand sneaking around to grab and slap at your ass.

He snarls. "Fuuuck..." The other hand slips between your legs, collecting all of your silky cyprine. "Look at the mess you made." He holds his glistening fingers up, both of you following every drop that dribbles down his knuckles. You're so dazed that you don't even notice yourself leaning toward his hand and before you know it, those slick fingers are being enveloped between your lips. He groans as he watches you suckle your juices off of him and his cock thrums incessantly. He's so entranced by your shameless display that he almost misses your hands tugging at the waistband of his pants, finally releasing his cock. He's hot and heavy between your palms, pulsing and dripping. Your lips slip from his fingers and you grin at him, giving his erection a squeeze.

"I think this good girl deserves a reward, don't you?"


End file.
